Diwali
by Kokoro893
Summary: What transpired that night at Malfoy Manor and how will they deal with it.


The Golden Snitch: Mahoutokoro, Kaze

Write about someone seeing light in the darkness.

Write about someone having to make an important choice.

Write using the phrase "knowledge is power" as a theme.

Write about hope.

* * *

**Diwali**

His hand reached into his pocket. Playing with the small vail inside was the only source of comfort left. He had to be strong, he told himself but his strength was nothing more than an illusion and he knew it. He simply was too much a coward to end it. Countless times he had swallowed the green liquid in his mind yet he never dared to do it. For his boy, he reminded himself.

He had to stay strong. From his cold cell to being a prisoner in his own home. When he thought he was lost he had now reached a new low. It wasn't significantly worse than any other day it just felt more bitter. He would have sold the kids out. Maybe it would have made a difference. Probably not. But now he didn't know what to do anymore. Like the very last straw, he held onto snapped.

Sitting in a dark corner, the with poison-filled vial still firmly in his hand, the dark wizard wished to escape the whole situation. It stank. It wasn't just himself since he stopped smelling his reeking of fire-whiskey and the lack of hygiene what felt like an eternity ago. The metallic smell of blood filled his nostrils as the girl desperately tries to escape his sister-in-law's clutches.

She was clearly suffering the past months on the run as well but it didn't give him the sinister satisfaction he longed for. Watching the girl whimper under the witchs curses he realized that if he did not win and they did not win either what was there to gain anyway?

"How did you get into my vault?!"

"It's fake! It's fake," the girl cried.

Bellatrix grew evermore furious and her actions became more cruel. Was she desperate? Like a shark who smelled blood the dark wizard reduced to a mere shadow of his former self, looked up. Even now his Slytherin instincts worked still perfectly well. He observed her closely. The young witch was about to lose her mind.

Their eyes met for a brief moment. When the dark witch once more demanded to know the girl managed to break into her vault it dawned on her. It was obvious and written all over her face. Had Bella not been so hysteric she would have noticed it as well. For a bright moment, the dark wizard collected all of his strength.

Betting on the judgment of a mere child he never liked, he hoped for a way out. He discretely lowered the wards. It wasn't much, not by a long shot but it was all he could manage and it didn't require him to get up. He vanished his poison and after a short moment filled with light, he fell back into survival mode. He had to stay strong, for his boy, he told himself.

* * *

Exactly two weeks after the battle of Hogwarts, when most people were either out of intensive-care or have passed, the Auror-department under acting minister Shacklebolt started their investigation. The boys, of course, were eager to help.

Hermione was still sore. Wounds inflicted by dark magic healed slowly and she was sure that many scars would remain. For the most part, she was just tired. It wasn't until she was questioned in order to prepare the trails for the captured death eater that she realized that something didn't add up. She often talked to her therapist about her time at Malfoy Manor.

The young witch always spoke slowly careful not to violate the statute of secrecy. What bothered her most was that she couldn't make sense out of any of it. Analyzing the scene deciphering what occurred made her feel detached as if someone else was tortured on the floor. It became her obsession. She needed to understand.

The way the elder Malfoy looked at her. She knew he knew. But she just couldn't figure out why he didn't sell them out. With this kind of knowledge, of power, he could have changed the turn of the war. So why didn't he? It surely wasn't out of the goodness of his heart.

Also having read so much about house-elves she wondered how exactly Dobby was able to enter the house. He wasn't a Malfox-elf anymore, therefore he shouldnt have been able to penetrate the wards. Unfortunately, she couldn't ask the elf since he laid buried behind Bill's cottage.

Hermione retrieved her notes on house-elves hoping to find something she missed. After an entirely fruitless hour, she stopped. She was a Gryffindor for Merlins sake and behaved like a coward. Knowing that Ron wouldn't forgive her if she freed the Malfoy patriarch in particularly not when they were in the sensitive process of rebuilding trust after all that had happened, she clung onto the idea of Draco lowering the wards but it was unlikely.

Knowledge is power. But she detested having that kind of power over someone she always despised. Thinking about Umbridge it brought a side of her to the surface she didn't know how to feel about. While she didn't feel guilty or bad for the centaur-incident since her former Professor could have simply kept her mouth shut for a couple of minutes but this was entirely different.

Whether Voldemorts former right-hand man would die in Askaban or would return home a free man was entirely up to her testimony. She was unsure as to how to proceed. The Malfoy patriarch must have done something to warrant a life-sentence over the last decades but unfortunately nothing that could be proven.

And as much as it would satisfy her seeing the arrogant aristocrat who spread hatred locked away, the witch also knew that Askaban was a longshot from spending several years in a muggle prison and seeing a parole-officer every other week afterward. Hermione knew she wouldnt be giving him room to think about his actions but signing the wizards death sentence.

On the other side, things between her and Ron were finally looking promising. For once they didnt fight. She took a stroll through the park. Being still in pain it took her forever to make the tour. The young witch even contemplated obliviating herself but she wasnt a Malfoy and wouldnt stoop so low.

After days of fighting with Ron, Hermione found herself in Kingsleys office. Being a selfish bigot wasnt a crime. Also, Narcissa Black was pardoned and Snape received an Order of the Merlin second degree postmortem. That the lady still strongly felt about blood purity and the fact that her late Professor acted out of vengeance seemed forgotten and she couldnt bring herself to destroy the image of Harrys idols. He wouldnt handle it well.

* * *

Back at Hogwarts, Hermione managed to avoid all things Malfoy even though Draco returned to school with her. The Slytherin finally learned to shut up. Surprisingly it wasnt the ugliness of the war that impacted him so deeply but the very quiet divorce of his parents during their fourth year.

Apparently Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy drifted apart to the point where they couldnt even stand each other. It really wasnt a surprise to anyone who had seen them 'together' except for Draco.

With Voldemorts return the aristocratic witch returned to England, they were still a family, one couldnt erase 20 years just like that and not being trapped with each other anymore improved their relationship only problem was that divorces were frowned upon in high-society and since Draco couldnt keep his mouth shout they somehow had forgone telling their son about their changed marital-status. The boy only heard about it when his father was arrested and his mother had neither visiting rights nor the right to refuse testimony. At every other moment in time, this would have been a major scandal but in the aftermath of the war, no one even noticed.

Hermione focused all of her attention on her studies and her scare spare time was divided between her head girl duties and seeing her therapist. It wasnt until Padma suggested to cancel Halloween in favor of Diwali, that Hermione thought about the Malfoy patriarch again.

So soon after the war, it seemed wrong to scare people and the Indian festival of light that transcends religions seemed to be what they needed. The first of the five days were spent renovating and decorating the castle. Hermione realized quickly that this wouldnt give her the satisfaction she longed for. The young witch knew that Hogwarts wasnt the place of her nightmares.

Standing unannounced in front of the gates of Malfoy Manor with a bucket of paint, cleaning supplies, tapestry and tons of candles she felt anxious. She hadnt needed to be, a house-elf welcomed her and showed her to the room.

Not wanting to get lost in her thoughts the young witch immediately started to scrub the floor. Kneeling on the floor, her hands and knees already sore, she worked hard to remove her dried blood from the wooden floor. Was it even hers? How many people were tortured in this room? Engulfed in her work the Gryffindor didnt notice the lord of the manor standing behind her.

"Stop it! You stupid girl are upsetting the house-elves."

if she had been more in her element the irony of this sentence wouldn't be lost on her. She turned around to face the death eater. He still looked terrible and she could smell from miles away that he drank way too much.

"How did you manage to get in?"

"Your elf let me," the young witch answered quietly worried about the creatures well-being.

Luckily the dark wizard was either too drunk, too depressed or too tired to argue. Probably all of the above. He massaged his temple with his fingertips.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"It was Padmas idea. its common that the first day of Diwali people renovate their home or workplace... my therapist thought it was a good idea... Halloween was canceled," Hermione rambled.

The Malfoy patriarch could not follow her. The girl was not making sense or maybe he had a glass of fire-whiskey or two too much, and that early in the morning. Was it even morning? Frankly, he did not even know what month it was.

For some reason he failed to comprehend, likely because he was somewhat struggling to remain standing without throwing up, he sat down next to her and healed her hands. He had no idea what he was doing and he was not sober enough to question it but he ended up helping the unusual witch in her pursuit.

He had never cleaned or renovated but he was sure that there were charms and spells for it. Was that something the girl actually did not know? He offered her food and after a long night, the room has been transformed.

Exhausted the two former enemies lay on the floor since the paint on the wall was still wet. The morning sun shined upon them light drowning than in a subtle warmth. Finally sobered up the still horrid looking wizard, now with also paint in his oily hair, understood why she did it. It honestly was satisfying and he felt like a huge weight was lifted off his shoulder.

Speaking to the younger witch for the first time in what felt like a lifetime he first inquired about his boy.

"Hes alright, I guess. Spends a lot of time with Luna. I just hope for them that theyre actually happy together and not just codependent," Hermione told him calmly.

Before the war, she would have been outraged by such a constellation and would have gone out of her way to protect the unique witch but now...

After a moment of silence she collected all of her courage and asked the older wizard to accompany her to the big Diwali celebration, it seemed fitting.

The dark wizard was not thrilled. He had not left his estate since his incarceration and his thoughts were clear enough to know he would not necessarily be welcome. But the witch saved his life twice therefore technically he was still one short and owed her, also he wanted to see his boy again.

He made her wait in the library for several hours judging by the fact that she was already on her third book, not that she minded. The young witch enjoyed treating herself.

When the wizard finally joined her he looked great. Washed and groomed, his long hair falling over his shoulders wearing a plain white shirt he looked rather stunning. He was, in addition, a lot less intimidating without his outer robes and she almost didnt recognize him without his usual sneer.

"I apologize for making you wait. I had trouble locating it," he said handing her an in a paper-wrapped bundle.

Hermione carefully opened it. She found a red with gold threat embroidered saree.

"My grandfather received it from a business-partner. It was never worn due to the lack of occasion, I thought it would suit you well."

The Gryffindor thought that the main issuewas the color-scheme and thinking of the Bangladeshi children unable to attend school because they have to work she wondered if accepting something from a colonized India was ok. Acknowledging that it was, in fact, a nice gesture she tried it on.

The two of them sat on the couch for a couple of hours discussing Arithmancy before Hermione departed. Walking over the land she collected a few beautifully colored leaves like she did as a child. She hadn't noticed that it was already autumn her season before.


End file.
